


Couquette

by holy_wow



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Public Sex, Sweet, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_wow/pseuds/holy_wow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a small vacation to a desert resort, Thane takes Shepard to a posh party. In an effort to enjoy herself, she takes to teasing her lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couquette

**Author's Note:**

> A fill at the kinkmeme: So many wonderful fics have the drell neck frills to be an erogenous zone but considering that drell are relatively rare in the galaxy at large this fact is not widely known. Shepard takes advantage of that fact. For all the world she seems to be modestly in love, almost shy, hugging her lover and hiding her face in his neck-- when she actually teasing her lover with the human equivalent of some over the pants action. So flustered!Thane than devious!Thane or mybe some caveman!Thane if you feel like it.
> 
> Coquette: a woman who make's teasing sexual or romantic overtures; a flirt or tease

Shepard reclined back, arching her back in a stretch over the pillows with a contented moan. The open room allowed the morning sun to make her feel pleasantly warm. She then blinked open her eyes, glancing at Thane as he leaned on the railing. He seemed quite taken with the desert. She was just happy nobody had shot at them yet. Besides, she didn’t see deserts too often. Most of her exotic trips across the galaxy led her to tropical paradises where everything was poisonous and wanted to eat you. Or freezing cold ice storm covered planets that froze her guns.

She slid off of the circular bed, pushing at the sheer curtain to make her way towards him. She was quiet but still he didn’t jump when she reached him. She wrapped her arms around his back, laying her chin on his shoulder. He turned his head a quarter, smiling at her. “Siha,” he said and she hummed. He went back to staring at the expanse of the desert oasis and she took the moment to enjoy the warm breeze. One of his hands moved to lay over her’s, gently tracing her knuckles. She smiled and turned her head enough to kiss his neck.

He stretched his neck, the vibrations of the frills enticing a bigger smile from her. “Siha,” he said again, this time his voice rougher. She lightly dragged her nails across his bare chest, down to hook her thumb at the top of his pants. She continued to kiss at the frills, dragging her tongue against the rough skin. His head fell back on her shoulder. Shepard laughed, pulling back. Of course, she didn’t get that far. He turned quickly, hands grasping her hips as her hands fell to his shoulders for support. “You are a tease, Siha.”

She hummed, looking far too pleased no doubt. “You enjoy it.” His hands slid down to grope her ass, tugging her even closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment it was simply that. Her feeling safe and content in his arms. Shepard wasn’t sure when he’d become her safe harbor while everything around her crashed and broke. But he had become her support and her strength. It was nice, after the life she had lived. Of course, then he was hoisting her up and carrying her back to the bed. She laughed, wrapping her legs around his hips and going back to kissing his neck.

Sadly, while she would have been content to spend all her time in similar situations Thane actually wanted to see the desert. Not just glance at it from the window. So she was forced to do things like actually get dressed and actually leave their little apartment. Course, their third walk across the desert she decided she was going to throw the next damn lady that complained about the walk. Preferably off a cliff. But if all she had was a particularly steep dune or large hill- well beggars couldn’t be choosers. She wanted to be good, honestly. This was for Thane. And she had tried to ignore them. Honestly.

The problem was that Shepard was a marine. And, even as a lady, pretty places just didn’t hold her attention very long. It as nice when they landed. It was lovely to look at for the first day or so. But the view didn’t do anything for her. All the nights sitting on the balcony staring at the sun set with all the lanterns lit- she enjoyed that because she was cuddling with Thane. Not because the sun sets were particularly gorgeous. Though they were absolutely stunning. Desert had that going for it. But following trails was boring. She wished they’d of brought the Mako (RIP mon trésor) or at least some sort of off terrain vehicle to have some real fun. Course the resort didn’t condone that behavior. Bad for the environment or something.

Thane was also adamant about interacting with all the people that she did not want to interact with. Because Shepard was bad at being normal with actual normal people. Especially the posh people at the little resort they were staying at. They talked about fashion and stocks and their trip to Belan where they found diamonds or something. She talked about the guns, batarians, and that one time she was charged by a krogan had all her ribs broken. And how, with those broken ribs she still led the assault to take down the damn mercs. Very few people seemed interested. And she didn’t come here to flaunt her name anyway. In fact, she hoped to avoid anybody realizing she was Commander Shepard for the entire stay.

Thane gave her space as she pouted around their little apartment to get ready. Unrepentant for dragging her along, but smart enough not to actually say that in any sort of language. Body or verbal. He was, of course, finished before her and made his way down to the lounge to wait. Thane was either just intelligent or there were perks to dating a widower. She stared at the mirror for a long moment. “Merde,” she said, turning away and stomping through the little apartment place. She opened her suitcase, eyes falling to the bag on the side.

She knew what it was. Even if she hadn’t packed it. Liara had been so sure that, no matter what, she needed to bring a dress on her vacation. Just in case, she had said. Shepard pulled the dress out. She should probably have been more upset that everybody seemed to know her size anymore. She glanced back at the mirror. She wasn’t good at this stuff. Correction, she didn’t like this stuff. Still, for Thane. She’d made bigger sacrifices in her time than putting on something nice and smiling.

She tossed the shirt she was wearing onto the bed and slipped into the dress, walking into the bathroom to see. It was all black with lace, tight and short. Liara had to of taken more time in choosing the dress than Shepard ever would have. It showed off her hips and legs, which were the equivalent of boobs for drell more or less. It hid her right shoulder. Her bad shoulder. When Miranda rebuilt her it ended up being mostly metal and though the old scars were gone new ones had formed. It was still sore and ugly. Felt more ugly than it really looked. The long lace sleeves intricate and gorgeous. It was a nice high end dress. Not something Shepard would normally where. Normally buy. Liara did good. Liara usually did good.

Shepard pulled her hair back in a simple chignon. Some light makeup, she did remember how to do that at least, and the heels Liara packed. Nothing sky high, but enough to match the dress. In the end she didn’t much look like Commander Shepard anymore. She didn’t even look like Allison Gunn. Shepard blinked in the mirror, staring a moment longer before scoffing at herself and turning to leave. She decided to forgo a gun, her biotics more than enough for defense, and made sure the door locked behind her and briskly made her way down to the lounge.

Thane stood when she approached. Ever the gentleman. He watched her, his already big eyes wide as he watched her, the smile on his face worth everything. It had taken time to learn his expressions. Body language in general was different between their cultures a bit, but also because he was a rather reserved man. She took his hand when he extended it, walking beside him as he led them to the outside porch. The entire open yard was lit up with lanterns, lounges spread about. A dance floor set up and already there was a line at the food. She tried to hide her frown.

“You look beautiful, Siha,” he said, thumb brushing along her knuckles. Their hands didn’t fit perfectly, his fused fingers a general nuisance. But she loved his hands and enjoyed the feel of holding them. “Thank you, for humoring me.”

She smirked at him. “Hm, don’t thank me yet. Not until we’re sure I’m not going to ruin the night.” He smiled and squeezed her hand before leading her towards the edge. She leaned her head on his shoulder to watch all of it. She ignored most of the music. She would have possibly danced otherwise. Depending if Thane could. Problem was she didn’t do the whole club dances. She liked the latin, the swing, the foxtrot, some ballet. She knew a little of the asari callipygian dance and the turians oeillade. It was a love her mother passed on to her.

But the techno esque music they played ruined any chance she had of dancing. She sat down on the loveseat, leaning on Thane as they watched. He smiled, reclining back. Shepard was unsurprised when they started drawing attention. A human with an alien was in and of itself odd. A human with a drell was unheard of. Mostly because drell were unheard of, really. Thane was extremely lucky she wasn’t super possessive. Mostly because she could easily beat every man here. Not even going to address all the frumpy women.

But it was the simple fact that, no matter how gentlemanly he would get with the other ladies he always still, somehow, made her feel special. She smiled a bit as she cuddled closer to him, the ladies, human so she probably gave them the confidence to approach, coming over to start conversation. It was one thing posh women knew, conversation. Little social butterflies that they were. And since they were all staying at the resort it was exceptionally easy to start a conversation here. Child’s play to them. She crossed her legs, a sign that she was not open to them, and hid her face in Thane’s neck to avoid them. They were after Thane anyway. They would just use her as a bridge if they could.

And they couldn’t. So they would take a completely different route. Thane had an arm wrapped around her, thumb brushing a circle on her waist as he humored the lovely ladies. It was when she was bored that she got her worse plans. Worst in the best possible way. Which pretty much summed up all her plans. If she had plans. Shepard was a firm believer of ‘if I don’t know what I’m doing, the enemy sure as hell doesn’t either’ so plans weren’t always big on her agenda. They never held up once you met the enemy anyway.

She glanced up through her lashes to Thane’s neck. His ever so sensitive neck. She’d never actually teased him before. Not in anyway that kept him from responding. And he was a surprisingly responsive lover. Attentive lover. On the Normandy, any sort of affection between them would have seemed odd. Would have been a distraction. Here, there was no reason to stop her. She smiled a little smile, getting a little closer to him as the breeze picked up. She made sure to keep half an ear on the ladies. Had to respond if they talked to her. Be polite.

Making sure everything was good she gently nuzzled his neck. The odd texture of his frills, along with the vibrations he made, had her almost giggling. The sound he made, she felt it more than she heard it. The sound too low to easily catch. His hand stilled on her hip and then tightened. She had been nice, he hadn’t been mid sentence. But he could only nod when the lady said something. She kissed the frills as his neck inflated a bit, his voice catching roughly when he tried to respond to a question about his home planet.

She turned a bit to make sure she didn’t actually appear to be sucking his neck in the middle of the conversation. She nodded a little, turning to glance at the setting sun. Subtly trailing her hand along the outside seam of his pants. Enough to keep him on edge. She then settled back in, giving a nod to the lady when she said something. “We met on Illium. Our jobs crossed paths,” she said when the lady asked.

They cooed and started talking about Illium. Like she and Thane actually knew anything besides the seedy underbelly of the place. She went back to his neck. “Siha,” he said quietly, his grip almost bruising now. She placed more kisses along his neck, sucking gently. He continued to hum, eyes fluttering as the ladies continued with their chatter. She hummed in return, not sure if she was saying anything to him but it made him take a deep breath and close his eyes. His hand sliding down to the hem of her skirt, to skin.

She gently ran her tongue along the frills, the odd texture used to fascinate her. Now she rather cared for the taste. She loved this because it sent him reeling. Usually he responded too quickly, snatching her up and caring her somewhere he could have his way with her. Or she’d tease by stopping before he snapped and let him chase her. Sort of. They were never really extensive chases. She continued to run a finger along his leg, between their bodies where the little butterflies couldn’t see. She smiled against his neck, his humming and body all shaking as she alternated from kissing him to responding quietly to the ladies. When he began shifting in the seat, his hand unable to bend enough to really get under the hem of her skirt, she decided he’d had enough.

“Ma moitié, I’m going to go get a glass of wine,” she said against his neck before giving his jaw a tentative kiss. She didn’t want to set him off bad enough that he carried her back up to their apartment on his shoulder. Having never done this before she decided it best to play it safe. She stood, knowing his eyes were on her, and made her way off. She grabbed a glass on the way to the upper levels, smiling at the waiter as she went. Up top she leaned on the balcony, rolling the wine in the glass as she watched it all. She knew it wouldn’t take long for Thane to find her. Not unless the ladies got interesting, in which case she might have to get jealous and go crack skulls.

It took longer than Thane wanted to disentangle himself from the gentle ladies. He was used to other being curious about him. His race was only barely known and rarely seen. In his profession, and growing up with the hanar, he rarely ran out of patience. At that moment, however, he would have left the women mid sentence to chase down his Siha and drag her somewhere recluse to teach her some manners. Never had he had a women do that to him.

He stood at the edge, scanning the crowd for her face. His heart raced and he took a deep breath. First the line to the buffet then he scanned the dance floor. He didn’t expect her there but better to check. He could imagine her there just to continue this game of hers. Shepard was beautiful and graceful. Even on the dance floor if one knew how to look. The problem was she couldn’t loosen up to the music. Everything she’d ever known was precision and flowing. The music clubs played didn’t fall into that. He hoped, before the end, to take her dancing some place.

But she wasn’t there. He continued looking, eyes finally finding her. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, slipping through it fluidly. Once atop the stairs he stared at her for a moment. She was so beautiful. She didn’t need the dress or the make up. He loved her as she was. The pants, the sloppy hair up-dos, the scars. Still, when he had seen her walk down the stairs with her long legs and enticing lace his breath had caught. He knew his Siha knew that legs, hips, and even the midriff were ways that drell women attracted the men. They were an eye catcher. The same way human woman displayed cleavage.

What she didn’t know was the the neck was more enticing than any sort of display of leg there was. Humans found an elegant, long neck appealing. With how sensitive their necks were, necks were more than appealing. Female drell often wrapped their sari’s high around their necks. Sometimes with hoods. Men’s kurta’s were generally high collared as well. Thane, after so many years freelancing outside of Kahje and the hanar he had accepted the differences of cultures. And his job, his way of working his job, required his neck have freedom for movement.

Still, every time he saw Shepard’s neck, her hair pulled up and back so tightly, he had a strong desire to lay his lips against it. She called the marks hickeys- for on a drell there was no mark. But to see those hickeys stirred something deep inside him, made him purr. Over the course of their relationship he had found he enjoyed her breasts as well. He had never actually seen the appeal before. He didn’t take to asari and had never loved a human before her. Now, the idea of having a lover that didn’t have breasts seemed unappealing. They were marvelous things.

He could still feel her, his memory working against him. His blood pounded with a desperate want for her. But he had never was rough with her. Quick, needy, lustful, that he had been. Desperate, in love, euphoric, that too. But never rough and demanding. But his blood rushed, his pants far too tight, his heart hammering away. For all he hoped to calm himself he couldn’t. He stalked towards her, molding his body to hers as he laid his hands on either side of the railing. Trapping her, he pressed his mouth against her neck, dragging his teeth along the skin. She gasped, glancing back at him. She relaxed a bit, fixing her hold on the glass she held. He pressed closer to take it from her, setting it on the small table beside them, never losing any of the contact he had with her. “Siha,” he said against her neck, one hand sliding along the side of her ribs and down her hips.

She stretched her neck, giving him better access. He forced himself to remain still. To not grind against her. “Looks like you found me,” she said.

He hummed, pulling his mouth away to respond. “We knew I would, Siha. The more interesting thought is, what am I going to do to you.” His hand found its way under her skirt and she gasped. He dragged his fingers along her inner thigh, never going high enough.

“Thane,” she said, shifting. “Thane we’re- somebody could come up,” she said, subtly pushing against him. 

He hummed against her neck, not responding for a long moment. “You think you are exempt from retribution, Siha?” He brought his hand up, brushing along the soft fabric of her lingerie. She gasped, arching against him. She bit her lip, legs spreading a bit to give him better access as he pressed a bit harder. Every shift and roll of her hips had him moaning, sending a jolt up his spine. He couldn't stop, anymore, grinding a bit against her. She struggled not to moan, hands tightening on the railing as she dropped her head. Her gorgeous eyes clenched shut.

Thane pushed her lingerie out of the way, craving her slick skin. She shuddered when he reached it, a quiet breathy moan that encouraged him. He slowly pushed his finger inside, continuing to toy with her clit. Her breathing picked up and he moved faster, silently demanding she be pushed over the edge. That she cum, then and there. Looking over the party, leaning over it, body quaking and clenching around his fingers.

She stretched against him, throwing her head back. Her hand pressed into her mouth as she bit down, keeping herself from saying anything. He smiled, taking a moment to simply watch. As she arched and stretched, once hand crept up to grip her breast. His lovely Siha never seemed to flaunt her breasts like other humans. Like asari. Somehow thought they did not stand up to the standard. Still, he liked her breasts, they were a little more than a handful. But with the dress and whatever bra she happened to be wearing he couldn’t get to her breast. He could feel the cup and the firmness of the bra. Not her. That angered him almost.

As she started to fall from her high he hoisted her up and carried her to the small alcove. A small gazebo like structure hidden with colorful pillows and sheer curtains pulled open. She fell with a squawk, stretching back to stare at him as he crawled up. She gasped for air, holding herself up on her elbows. He devoured her with a kiss, hovering over her. Her hands came up, cupping his jaw and skimming over the frills of his neck. He shuddered, pressed the bulge of his pants against her. She moaned into his mouth, the kiss having to break. Pressed against him, hands clawing at his shirt, she rolled her hips and nearly had him collapsing on top of her. Thane grabbed her hand. The blood from her teeth beginning to drip. He kissed at sucked at the wound, trying to ease whatever discomfort it caused. Her other hand came up, trailing along the scales and ridges.

He growled and hummed as he pulled back, working against his pants as she continued her torment. His Siha would never learn. It was futile to try and teach her otherwise. She sucked at his neck, moaning against it as he pushed his pants down. The air, while dry and warm, still caused him to hiss. It was all she needed to know, a hand sliding down along the length of his body to find his upright cock. He could feel her smile against his neck. He had his arms braced as she leisurely petted his cock, kissing his chin. He rolled his hips, pumping into her hand a moment before he grabbed her wrist.

Thane pushed her back and down, aligning himself. She twisted her hands along his back and he thrust slowly. He could still remember the first time. It had been desperate. He had needed her more than air. They had clung to each other. He had peppered her with kisses, memorizing everything he could about her. He still would remember the first time he entered her. He had been too large, too different at first. He could remember the pain, the small sound she made. He remembered every slow thrust. He drew it out as long as he could, he always did. Hoped to make it last forever. Beyond eternity. Now he entered and she moaned. Tried to stifle it belatedly as she clung to him.

He tried to keep a pace. To draw it out. But oh did she make it hard. Every roll of her hips, every time she clenched or rose to meet him, he shuddered and hit a little harder. Her nails dug harder and he could no longer hear the party. Both of them had enemies. Even there, perhaps he should have still tried to pay attention. Simply as a precaution. As always, though, his world narrowed to her. She glowed beneath him, quietly panting and begging. Sweet nothings fell from her bruised lips, on her neck a new hickey forming.

It was there that he knew he was beginning to reach the end. Her walls tightened around him, one hand sliding along his neck as the other reached the skin of his chest, finally getting under his shirt. He kept himself braced above her with one arm bent, angled, and the other sliding down to the sweet nub between her folds. With practiced swipes he hoped to bring her with him. She was so tight then, chewing on her abused lip to keep from screaming as he continued. It is blinding when he comes. There is no air in his lungs, no thoughts beside her beneath him. Around him. His hips rock and she arches, arms wrapping around him. Holding him. It’s beautiful and just an instant. He says her name a hundred times. And then he collapses atop her.

She is strong and simply lays beneath him, lets him lay there a moment. But he fears crushing her, knowing his denser muscles make him heavy, and he rolls off. She comes with him of course, never very far. They are silent a long moment. It takes Thane longer than he would like to catch his breath. She sits up and closes the curtains before curling next to him, head on his shoulder as she smoothes his shirt. Small things to distract her while he tries to regain control. He does not say anything and so she doesn’t.

Moments pass by, the sounds of the party coming back, his hand drawing circles on her hip, he finds peace. She is dozing off beside him, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “Je t’aime, ma moitié,” she said. He enjoyed the way she spoke her native language. It was special and just for him. It was her home and her past. Two things she did not share lightly. It was a beautiful language, her voice almost different when she spoke with the accent.

He kissed the top of her head. “Je t’aime, Siha,” he said in return. A practiced phrase for him, so he would get it perfect. The first time he had said it her face had lit up in shock and adoration. With love he would return every day, with every fibre of his being.

**Author's Note:**

> Small notes: The french is because in my selfish mind, if Vega get's to throw around some Spanish phrases my Shepards can as well. Juste Shepard, who I have always paired with Thane, I have always seen as knowing French (because I sort of knew it. Like I sort of know bits of Spanish from high school course).
> 
> For terms as well, I don't like making up words. Especially not for small fanfiction. So the dances for other species are just old words I like. The sari/kurta's are indian dresses. They are similar to what I imagine drell wear. So I just used those terms because I don't have to explain the dress and I don't have to make up words. Double win for me.  
> callipygian : sexy admirable butt  
> oeillade: an amorous glance, ogle  
> Sari/kurta- indian dresses for men and women


End file.
